In the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Lyra sat on the edge of the bed, her heart aflutter with nervous anticipation. The room was filled with the gentle hum of silence, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets outside.
Dressed in a delicate nightgown, she traced the intricate patterns of lace with trembling fingers, her mind filled with thoughts of her beloved husband.
As she waited, her thoughts wandered to the promises they had made earlier that day, vows of love and devotion that bound them together as husband and wife.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she imagined the life they would build together, filled with laughter, love, and endless moments of joy.
However, Lyra was troubled by the idea of her husband, who was not in a sound state of mind during their wedding.
Was he feeling overwhelmed by the festivities? Was something weighing heavily on his mind? Did he not want this wedding? The questions lingered, casting a cloud over what should have been a day of pure happiness and celebration.
Because this marriage was against both of them. But she had some hope that her husband would love her a little.
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